Page 17 of Twisted Lies

LILY

After he leaves, I sit at the end of the bed. Why did I kiss him? Why did I allow myself to think for the tiniest of moments that he cares for me? He only cares for himself. Why would he want me, especially after seeing my scars? I should be grateful he wants to stay away. That’s what I should want. That’s what I do want. I’m feeling all these emotions because of the mental breakdown in the shower. Everything is running through me. That’s why I’m feeling confused by Kevin. Sleep. I need sleep. Laying down, I close my eyes and hope my thoughts stop long enough to let me rest.

ChapterSix

LILY

Iwake in a rush, all sweaty. My hands grip my throat. Frantically, my eyes search in the darkness, expecting someone to jump out. After a few seconds, no one does, and I calm my breathing. I hope I wasn’t screaming. I don’t hear a knock at the door, and no one’s busting down the door.Damn him. If he hadn’t gotten shot, I would be fine right now. But he had to go and piss off the wrong person. I was doing good, better than good—great. The nightmares had stopped. I wasn’t as jumpy or paranoid.It’s his fault.

I am pissed—at him, at myself. At the shooter who ruined my peace. Shoving the comforter aside, I pace in the darkness before yanking the door and heading down the hall to the stairs to the kitchen. Maybe water or soda would help. At this point, I’m going to be up with my racing heart. Might as well get something to drink. The halls are empty. Two guards are at the bottom of the stairs. They nod to me as I pass. The kitchen is dark. I don’t bother turning on the light, as I know the layout by heart.

Opening the fridge gives a little light to the room. Pulling out a Diet Coke, I quickly twist the top off and take a sip. Stepping back, I shut the fridge.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Kevin asks from the darkness. Thankfully I don’t scream. I squeal and jump.

“Kevin! Why are you lurking in the darkness?”

I can practically see his smirk. “Last I checked, I can lurk when I want to. Why are you up?”

“Just…woke up. That’s all. You?” I ask, taking another drink. Hoping it gives me time to think of a better answer if he keeps quizzing me.

“Same,” he answers. I can tell he’s lying. Stepping forward, I sit at the table with him in the dark.

“At least I put my answer into a sentence.”

“You want a gold star?” he asks.

“Maybe. You have one?” I ask. It’s easy talking to him when the darkness hides his expression. I should just walk away after him being a dick earlier. But I don’t do that. Instead, I sit and wait for his response.

“No. But I can give you something better.” My body heats at his meaning.

I laugh. “You sure? I find the ones that have to talk about it can’t quite compete.”

I sense his amusement. “Why don’t you come over here, and I can show you just what I can do.”

“I’m good. I’m still pissed at you.”

“That’s the best kind of sex. A little anger mixed in. It makes everything more fun.”

“You would know. You’re live in a constant state of pissed off,” I point out. The darkness is making me brave.

The silence sits between us till he says, “Not always.” His voice comes out strained. “You want to have some fun?”

“Why do I have a feeling I won’t like your idea of fun? You’re so hot and cold. One moment you’re kissing me and the next you’re saying we need to stop. Pick a personality.”

“Trust me, you will. The dark makes everything more fun, makes every touch more exciting. Touch yourself,” he commands.I guess he’s selected his mood for the night.

“What?” I squeak out, shocked by his words.

“Touch yourself. I can’t see you. Only you will know what you do. Touch yourself.”

I know he’s trying to shock me. I know he doesn’t expect me to do it. It’s a game to him. “Where?” I ask. My voice comes out stronger than I thought.

“Start with your cheek, then to your neck and your right breast. Slowly. Make every touch matter,” he commands. I sense him move in his seat. He’s right. It is dark enough he won’t see if I do as he asks. But there’s a part of me that wants to play his game. If nothing else, to see where it leads.

“Okay.” Placing my hand at my cheek, I slowly move it down to my neck, pretending it’s his hand, moving slowly to my breast.

“Where is your hand now?” he asks.

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